Whether it's the hoarse-voiced lady, who directs her phone conversation to the entire carriage, or the businessman who is incessantly pounding the keys on his laptop or even the silent passenger curled into a corner, who hasn't taken a drink for the entire duration for the 1.5 hour journey; commuting is seldom without stimulation.

Although the commuter life is by no means for me, I am constantly and consistently both amused and bemused by my surrounding fellow passengers. The lady who projects her life to all fifty or so of us, via her telephone, lowers her voice when she has something to say which I and the rest of us might actually be interested in, and I begin to type. I'm desperate on this lone journey to share the laughs with someone - so all I can do is write it down for now.

Just as the train pulls up to Gatwick, a few dozen glum faces slot into what empty seats they can find whilst the rest continue their woe-filled journeys with faces that the cliche folk might term 'slapped arses'. To me though they just appeared cold and dampened in spirit by English weather. I'm not sure why though, as today was particularly sunny. It is lovely.

The businessman opposite didn't agree, I could tell. Between tuts and sighs coupled with the occasional groan I could tell the sun was merely an obstacle for him. He had had a stressful journey so far, I watched as he dodged the sun, and adjusted his position in accordance with the movement of the train - he had been so insistent on avoiding even a slight glimmer on his head, it was as if he was a vampire!

I'm nearly there now, and slightly less bored. As I said, commuting is not for me - neither is lone traveling.

For our last full day in The Gambia, we spent some time by the pool before heading for a long walk along the beach. We went to Senegambia to take some money out but turns out the cash machine had not been filled enough to allow us to take out more than 3000 Dalasi - about £45! Luckily, we were next to a bank, and were able to just pop in there for some, but for a moment, it was a real frightening feeling.

During our walk, we came across a limping dog - really a sad situation as they were just left to it here. We were also accosted by a local who spotted Joe's bites and explained that they were distinct 'susula' bites. He insisted that susula and mosquitoes were very different, and that a susula bite can cause high fever. Being that he was the second person to comment and recommend some 'talato' cream for treatment, (and the first guy wasn't even trying to sell it, just recommended it) we bought some. He ushered us off the beach towards his village, and we just had to stand there with him while his mate ran to fetch some talato. After about 10 minutes, we told him we didn't want to stand around waiting, and continued our walk. However, about 5 minutes later, he came running down the beach with some, so we took our chances.

We met Seni at the beach bar at which he works, and it was lovely to sit down with the boys after he summoned Pa. Although lovely, it became a bit much when they were constantly saying our names and looking at us smiling as they repeatedly spoke at us saying we are a family and we are good people and the like. We popped to the other end of the beach to Oscar's for lunch and on our way back, called in at Pa's juice stand for our last juice. We were glad to relax for the rest of the afternoon by the pool though. As we approached the hotel, we spotted William, who had given us a present (a bracelet with our names in them). He said he was happy to have met us; what a nice gesture we thought.

We had dinner at Hot Rock again, and had the most epic time with Landing. He was such an inspirational lad - and explained how his compound had no electricity and sometimes his mum would wait awake for him, but if the battery that powered the house ran out, she would not wait for him in the dark.

He also told us how his mode of transport is a bike, and that he sometimes gets pulled over by police who give him a hard time for having no light - this was something that hit Joe hard, especially when Landing explained that he held a torch in his hand just to avoid a telling off from the police. We told him we would send him a bike light. He also gave us a gift of a bracelet each and was so happy to offer it to us. We had a fantastic evening with him and the other staff and are going to miss the burgers and Gambia massively.

A lovely last full day !

So today was another epic experience - for our second excursion we chose to take part in a trucking adventure. We therefore boarded an ex army monster truck looking thing which drove us off-road in the dirt and amongst the local villages to our first destination.

Upon disembarking, we were faced with a semi shanty location with a large hustle and bustle of people surrounding the local market. Our guide explained that this is where all local women come on a daily basis to do their food shopping. He also explained that they must carry out a food shop this frequently due to the lack of fridges in the villages and to ensure that the food was fresh... However, the fresh food on offer here, was also crawling in live flies and other bugs. Our path was difficult to make out and adhere to amongst the large tumult of people and the abundance of hovering flies. This was a little much for us both, and we anticipated the exit as we walked past stalls upon stalls of groceries, meat and fish; all seemingly coated in flies. Some women worked tirelessly to fan the produce in order to discourage the flies, but there were such large numbers of flies that it was impossible to wade off every one; a battle that some sellers had given up. Beyond these items which looked as though they were crawling with chocolate chips, were several stalls with fruit and vegetables also. Admittedly, they looked fresh but the general smell and presentation was not one our western eyes were used to by any means.

We climbed on board the truck ready for departure to our next point - a local school. We arrived after a fairly short drive at Prospects School, which was a project set up to support children's schooling locally so as to avoid them having to walk 7 miles each day to and from school. The experience was surreal, but pleasantly surprising. All the children wore matching uniforms, and were part of relevant classroom -distinct classrooms for each year group. Each class, which was clearly marked had around 30 children in them. The year 3s were the most chaotic, all asking for our names and signatures. A group of students immersed us both and we

 

found ourselves being cuddled, sat on and tugged in every direction, by children keen to show us their work. We were able to write messages in their books for them and were able to take some photos also. We also observed some of the older children, where a maths class was taking place, and saw some really good learning. We had an opportunity to talk with the teachers and it was lovely to see their passion for teaching. We donated some money and pens and pencils, and were happy to see that this establishment had begun working on an extension, with a view to extend the age of learners.


Back on board the truck, we were off to our next destination. It was really emotional seeing all the local children running after the truck chanting a mixture of "hello", "goodbye" and "do you have sweets?" It really became obvious how deprived these locals were, especially when we were instructed to not throw away empty bottles, but donate them to the children, because they can collect water or use them as instruments. It was such a sad feeling to know that there was no way we could help them all. Along the way, more children, adults and local ladies all seemed to greet us with smiles and were keen to wave and say hello as we drove past. The locals were busy taking part in their everyday lives and chores, but most paused briefly to give us a wave and shout hello. Some children, dropped what they were doing and ran towards the truck just to wave and say hello. Before we knew it, we had arrived at a local compound, where a family lived together. The famous Uncle John, who was known for climbing palm trees to extract the palm wine, lived here with his family, including his many grandchildren. We had an opportunity to have a photo with Uncle John and the family, and we bought a bottle of his special wine, which they called 'kill me now' or 'fire water' because the strength varied between 40% and 80% but there was no way to know exactly. 





                                      


The children were keen to follow us as we explored the village and some even asked for photos. Others asked for simple things like pens or sweets. One girl, simply asked "can you give me something?" And then proceeded to ask for a mobile phone. One boy explained how he needed money because his parents had died. It was difficult to know how much was true, but mainly difficult to be able to offer help because there were so many of them! 

We said goodbye and boarded the truck ready for our last stop at the Tanje fishing museum followed by a short walk around the fishing compound where fish was smoked and processed. The museum showed a typical village and the history of the village itself. However, upon arriving at the compound where fish was processed, we were shocked and stunned all at once. Fish had been laid out on a table made of woven palm leaves - thousands of fish. One area was used to dry the fish, and another to smoke it. There were piles of fish on the floor, but it was unclear whether this would be eaten and sold. Without sounding disrespectful, it was disgusting. Flies, sand, dirt and the like covered the fish and we were told this would be bought and kept for 3-6 months. A little way down, by the sea, fisherman worked hard shifting fish and manoeuvring boats, often working as a team. We came across some local boys who were friendly and asked our names. They told us a little about themselves - one boy who went to school until 2pm and then came down to the fishing village to work afterwards, told us he wanted to be a doctor. He also told us he liked football and asked if we could buy him one. At 100 dalasis, (about £1.20) we decided it was the least we could do. Traipsing around a fish-strewn beach between boats and labourers was not much fun, and we hoped a football could provide some more appropriate entertainment for them. 

We returned from our excursion exhausted and somewhat emotional, but ready for a good meal! Having headed to the Senegambia strip again, we opted for a good western dish with a Gambian twist - it was ok, but still no comparison to Oscar's lunch or Landing's burgers at the hot grill. We popped to see our mate again for a quick drink and bought a round of drinks for ourselves and the staff!

Bob was our taxi man, and sent a message with a local that he will be a few minutes late to pick us up from the pick up point as he was running some customers along somewhere. Sure enough, he strode past in his Mondeo, and ushered for us to cross the road. In England, a taxi driver might endeavour to pull up at the customer's convenience - here though, it was a simple hand wave out of the window, gesturing you to haul yourself across the road through the uncontrolled traffic and get yourself to your taxi. Nevertheless, he was very apologetic and showed genuine concern towards our 4 minute wait beyond the agreed pick up time, so we gave him a nice tip. William waited to greet us upon arrival and Joe insisted on giving him a tip also, for his help in sorting the return trip by our requested taxi driver.

A tiring, but thoroughly enjoyable day was had!

It was an early start this morning and after arrival at Banjul port, we boarded the boat that was to take us on a 2 hour journey to Fort James Island,recently renamed Kunta Kinteh Island. The journey itself was a slow cruise on a double decker very old fashioned boat. The smell of diesel couldn't be escaped - but the atmosphere was very nice nevertheless. The crew made tuna sandwiches to start with, and mixed this with a distinctly flavoursome topping of onions, garlic and tomato, all diced. We were entertained by our guide for about half of the journey, then given some free roam around the boat.

When we arrived, it was seriously scorching. The village of Albreda and Juffureh was very remote, and resembled a true African village with a mixture of shanty shacks, some cement and some totally natural (leaves) built housing. The orange dirt, provided a definite taste of Africa, covering us with a dusting wherever we went! We were welcomed in a shady area by a tribe musician, who played an instrument which resembled a guitar, but was also used as a drum. In native African dress, the musician man was interesting to watch. 

 We walked along the island towards the 'house' that Kunta Kinteh had lived in - to meet his descendants! At the Kinteh's we were given a brief history about what he was like, and how he was captured. It was disgusting to imagine how white men could disturb this peaceful, friendly village.

Next, it was off to meet the Tribe Chief - she was a woman! The guide told us that they estimate she was somewhere between 95 and 100 years old, but that it was impossible to tell for sure because during the time of her birth, Africa had not established dates and years, but rather attributed births to natural events such as, when a particular tree fell down, or when a significant historical event took place. They can however, use the age of her children and grandchildren to make an educated guess with regard to how old she was! She prayed for us and thanked us for our long travels and wished us all a safe journey back. This was so surreal. 

We walked past several groups of children, who lined the path in groups, chanting and singing 'welcome, welcome' as they beat empty plastic containers with sticks to show us a drumming display. Then, it was time to board the boat for the small island where slaves were kept prior to their trip to America. 

 

It was heart-wrenching looking at the remains of the fort that had once stood to contain captured natives in small dungeons, whilst providing luxurious space and comfort for captains and the like. We had an opportunity to observe a very small dungeon where anywhere between 20-40 slaves would be kept and fed through a small hole in the wall, with iron bars across it. The guides were not expecting us to feel bad, and did not deliver their information in a manner that would put white people at unease - they were very matter of fact about the information that was told to us, but it was impossible not to feel awful in some parts.

 

We boarded the small dugout boat back to our double-decker, and relaxed in the sun and shade with some Bob Marley playing for the journey back. 

We went for a burger at Hot Rock for dinner, but our friends were not around, except for the chef. We bought him a drink and sat with him for a good hour or so as he explained a little about his life and we offered him some stories from ours. He had gone to primary school, secondary, and even catering college! His burgers were really lovely, genuinely one of the best we have ever had, so clearly catering college was worth it. We told him we would come back to him for our last day on Wednesday. Overall, it was a lovely day, albeit it a very tiring one!

So far, every day could have been described as epic, but today, we hit the ground running with immersing ourselves in the culture. We met with William in the morning and after a racy dash to the peanut stall, we were well on our way, equipped with essentials for the monkeys at Monkey Park.

Bubba was our driver, and luckily he drove a green taxi - as opposed to a yellow and green one in which the drivers were clear risk-takers and most without licenses. He dropped us off at Monkey Park and informed us that he will be waiting to take us to our next destination. 



 



We paid for our tickets, and also for William's. It was the expectation that as part of the 'guide fee', tourists pay for their entrance. Once inside, it was a fairly standard looking bit of woodland with sand on the path. No monkey in sight meant William whistled several special calls to the monkeys, and before long, they appeared sure enough. Eagerly awaiting peanuts, they jumped at our bag and William quickly made sure that he was in control of the bag. It was a scary feeling seeing all these almost-mini-humans jumping and snatching vigorously at the bag of peanuts whilst growling at one another, and it was so reassuring to know that we had the experience of a local with us. William gave us handful of peanuts which we were able to offer to the monkeys. Now slightly more calm, they took our offerings gently and calmly. Their hands were soft, and they seemed to grasp slightly against your hand as they took their peanut. Along the way back, we spotted termite mounds which William talked us through and we were shown several types of trees and told of their various medicinal uses.





(termite mound)
Sure enough, Buba was ready and waiting to take us to our next destination. It was about a ten minute drive to Crocodile Park - a slightly sacred place where the water was considered holy and aided fertility. We drove past what we considered to be 'real Africa'. Small shacks, shanty buildings, make-shift constructions and various other living spaces surrounded native African dressed women who balanced baskets and the like on their heads, and local children, often barefoot,running across the distinctly orange dirt. As we drove further into this village, the smell of running open sewers was over-bearing. Not far beyond, we had reached the sanctuary of crocodiles. Upon arrival, we were invited to stroke a real life crocodile who was sunning himself or cooling off, we couldn't quite tell. Again, surreal. We continued our walk for a short while before we reached the end.




 









When we got back it was only around midday, so we got ourselves ready for a long walk on the beach, this time in the opposite direction. Sure enough, upon stepping onto the beach, we were flagged down by Ana the fruit lady. She took a serious tone: "so I prepare some fruit for you today?" as if fruit was a requirement of our day. We told her we were walking today and we will see how we feel after lunch. The walk was lovely, and we opted for lunch in a beach bar, with cushioned sunbeds on the beach - relaxed was an understatement. The beautiful walk back was lush and we walked with our feet in the sea. We popped over to our juicester friends, though Pa was nowhere to be seen!! Ana checked if we want fruit, as ever and we told her we would try and get some Wednesday but we will definitely see her Thursday morning, before we leave.

For dinner we headed back to the Senegambia strip, but our burger friends were not there tonight!  Some odd looking Gambian-who-had-lived-in-Birmingham tried to invite us in, but we explained that we were just looking to see the guys we made friends with, and are now heading back home. He swung his arm around Joe and ushered us towards his friend who was a taxi driver. This was quite a scary and risky experience as the guy went out back to some dark back road to retrieve his car - luckily we were taken back home and not driven away and held ransom somewhere! What was lovely was that William was waiting by the hotel and opened the door for us and checked we were ok. Third time we had seen him in one day - it had proved to us that he was trustworthy and a reliable friend in The Gambia. 


We got an early night tonight, ready for our Roots trip tomorrow. 

We got a real taste of Gambia today - we befriended the locals! So as promised, we returned to Pa the juicester and his friend Seni. They remembered our names and shouted with smiles across the beach, happy that we had honoured our promise. The juice itself was somewhat hard to gulp down, because it was mashed bits of fruit which wasn't terribly flavoursome and had an odd smell. This was no biggie though, because having seen how hard they had worked squeezing mainly by hand several bits of fruit to create two glasses, it was almost an honour to have the drink. It took around 10 minutes for the two lads to prepare by the time they had peeled the fruits, squeezed the juice and carved some ice off of their giant block. We sat down and chatted with a few of the guys and some of their friends joined us too. A little boy who belonged to one of the craft ladies favoured Pa and came to hang out with us too. Turns out Pa has Facebook and we gained a new friend today! He spoke to us about Gambian life and his off-season job as an electrician. Turns out he lives at home with his mum and brother - he had invited us to meet them some time! Such a lovely time with them all!

We even made Ana number 19 very happy today after buying a large fruit selection from her! Before we even had a chance to step onto the beach, Ana came scurrying across the sand shouting hello. She was delighted that after several tries of persuasion over the last couple of days, today was the day we gave in! Our intention was to buy some today anyway, but she didn't know that and seemed very happy with her successful sale. 

The vibe was lovely, and we were having a great morning on the beach in the sunshine with our new friends. We therefore decided to go with Seni to the bar he works at, and had lunch. He joined us for lunch and chatted to us about the Gambian way of life. He explained that he had gone to school but his family could only afford to send him to school until the age of 6, and mainly only so that he could learn English and have a job. He also told us a little about his job now, where during the season he is a sunbed attendant for the bar - getting paid nothing but relying solely on tips. We felt for him massively because the tips the sunbed attendants made were split between 5 of them, and on busy days this could be split between 20 of them! He kept us company for the entire meal, except for a quick 10 minutes while he went to take part in one of his five daily prayers. The most touching thing was that we handed him some money as a thank you for showing us around, and he refused claiming we were friends. At this point, Angie's (the thomas cook rep) advice was contradicted by this action. She claimed that "the locals don't want to be your friend for nothing". How wrong was she about this? We insisted Seni take the 25 Dalasi - all of about 40p, and he was over the moon. We headed back to the hotel for some time by the pool. 

It's a real struggle to keep short our experience in the evening. We had walked along the Senegambia strip, the single road in Gambia which was filled with a range of zooming taxis, extremely impoverished locals including young kids and babies playing on construction sites right by the roadside and many other people just perched around the road on stalls selling various items like nuts or fruit. Hasslers were not as common here as on the beach, though we had encountered a few classic bumsters looking shocked that we did not recognise them. (A classic scam as we had read).

 

We chose a burger bar which was buzzing with reggae music and the three guys who manned the restaurant were awesome. A guy with dreads, a youngish boy as the chef of the barbecue and a standard waiter. They were a cool gang, fascinated by our selfie stick and posing for a few photos. The experience wouldn't have been complete without hasslers though - one guy on a table opposite, tried to sell us some of his wooden carvings for around £100, and a busking band played in front of the restaurant then came in with a hat asking for donations. We refused this time, but gave the restaurant lads a nice tip - they were extremely welcoming!

We braved the walk back and made it back before dark. We had come across Idi (from day one) and explained that we had already booked a tour. We had also come across William (Angie's friend) and confirmed plans for monkey park tomorrow. We were being recognised and greeted all over town today, and really started to feel part of the community. Today was thoroughly enjoyable.

We found a few reasons to frown in the 'smiling coast' 

 We began our day with brekkie in our hotel, which was fairly basic but enjoyable nonetheless. We questioned whether the meat bits found in a meat and sauté potato combo was made of donkey or dog, but to be honest, the meat content of some cheap meat back home is also questionable, so we took our chances. 

We met Angie, the holiday rep for our welcome meeting. She was very definite when she advised strongly against the trusting of locals offering tours and trips. She explained that these 'bumsters' were often hasslers who offered no cheaper rate than Thomas Cook - and although well reviewed back home, even Arch Tours who we had pre-booked a safari trip with were taking people across borders to Senegal with the absence of official stamps in passports. This wouldn't have bothered us so much until Angie quite rightly pointed out that there is no insurance coverage with locals, but Thomas Cook are obliged to provide a safety and an insurance policy. To be honest, the several we came across were all too intense and left us with no privacy or chance to relax and enjoy the holiday, so we booked a couple of excursions this morning with Angie.

typical Gambian business card used to 'prove'
they are not a bumster

We stayed true to British holiday maker style and lounged by the pool until around midday, after which we braved the bumster-flowing streets and headed for a long beach walk. It took round about 3 minutes until we were targeted by a man claiming we had met him the night before... Classic bumstering, we thought - and walked on. We had to adopt a more abrupt tone, and were well on our way. It felt mildly like we were in a real life video game - where the challenge was to fight off locals' invasions! Our emotions fluctuated between being seriously annoyed, to frustrated and even humoured at one point by the view in the distance of a western man literally running away from a local hassler, and the African lady following closely behind in full sprint. Throughout our hour walk, we were offered plenty of fruit and fruit juice, several invites to various bars ranging from shanty-shacks to genuine buildings, fishing, boat trips, monkey parks, horse riding and a chance to buy some peanuts (and when we claimed we were full, the peanut lady whipped out some special cream claiming it was near magical) to name just a 'few'. 

Finally, my favourite bit - Oscar's bar where we had lunch; our first introduction to Gambian food to be honest, and delightful doesn't even begin to cut it. We each chose a type of curry, and whilst one of us picked chicken and the other seafood, we both still ended up being served chicken. The flavours were magnificent, honestly one of the nicest dishes we had ever eaten - slight spice, but a vibrant range of flavours! It was exceptional, and sitting right on the beach topped off the lovely meal. (Well except maybe for the oversized older ladies who were sunning their bare chests on the sun-loungers of the bar) 


We headed back to our hotel, and fought off "Ana - number 19" who had been persistently trying to convince us to buy some fruit from her shack! This battle was about the fourth one we had with her! We also met with William - Angie's friend who we arranged to go to Monkey Park with. Unfortunately, tomorrow was not a possibility because the roads were shut for litter clearing, and cars were not allowed out, as per the President's orders. We relaxed by the pool for a little while before dinner, and then kicked back with a local band. Funny though, even between songs, they had mentioned a particular restaurant and explained their 'special' offers - hassling at every possible opportunity was acceptable here it seemed. We also experienced several power-cuts throughout the night, including one when we returned to our room, mid-cuddle! Thoroughly enjoyed today.